


Bars On The Weekend (Talk To Me Sober)

by acertaininsomniac



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Buffy the Vampire Slayer References, Getting Together, Happy Drunk!Derek, M/M, More like tactile drunk!Derek really, Underage Drinking, as I am not snarky enough for these boys in all honesty, ooc, those references literally saved this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acertaininsomniac/pseuds/acertaininsomniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Once is an incident. Twice is a coincidence. Thrice is a pattern." Stiles believed this wholeheartedly.</p>
<p>Or…</p>
<p>…<strike>Five</strike> Three Times Derek Was Drunk And One Time He Was Sober…</p>
<p>Also...</p>
<p>...The one where the 'love confession' is concealed in <i>Buffy the Vampire Slayer</i> references.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ain't No Party Like A Pack Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trilliath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trilliath/gifts).



> More tags and characters will be added as the story progresses.
> 
> Story inspired by Trilliath. Title and outline of story inspired by What's Eating Gilbert...ish.

I

The first time the pack had gotten drunk together was the day of high school graduation. They had literally survived the Beacon Hills High School and all of the death traps it entailed. Stiles was almost surprised there wasn't a Buffy-like show down during the ceremony. Either way, he was about eighty-seven percent sure that the Beacon Hills mayor was a totally normal, non-supernatural guy.

The pack had convened at Derek’s apartment to celebrate their accomplishments. Lydia quite a bit more than others, but Stiles was just happy that if someone beat him for valedictorian, it was her. At first, Derek hadn’t been remotely thrilled with the idea, but he had decided in the end that if his pack was going to do it anyways he might as well monitor them and their monkshood intake.

They had all started off pretty heavily while using various drinking games as fuel for their fire. It had only taken two games in before Derek was finally convinced to join. From then on, the night was full of teasing, stories, laughter, and quite a bit of snark. 

After an obnoxious game of Waterfall, Stiles had taken it upon himself to grab the next few rounds of alcohol, needing to stretch his legs and calm down a rising interest in Derek’s relaxed visage. While he was counting out the possible needed drinks, Derek had come into the kitchen as well.

Not one to beg off from help in this situation, Stiles looked to him with a smile. “Oh, awesome. I was just about to call for help.” Stiles started to grab beers from the fridge. “Can you grab the…” Stiles trailed off before belatedly jumping away from Derek who had just leaned his head in the crook of Stiles neck and shoulder. “Woah, warn a guy next time,” Stiles said laughing. He looked to Derek who was holding open the fridge. Derek just kept the dazed and contented smile that he had acquired about two hours ago. “I know you guys are tactile and all that, but sometimes-“

Derek’s hand was placed on Stiles’ hip as he went to lean around him to grab more beer out of the fridge. “…s-sometimes…” Stiles could feel Derek along his side as he shuffled around.

Once enough beer was out of the fridge, Derek stood up straight, his hand still on Stiles’ hip, his front close enough to Stiles’ back for him to feel the heat. Stiles’ breath stuttered a bit as he felt Derek’s nose move slowly and lightly up the back of his neck. Derek pressed a light kiss right under the hairline there, and Stiles held his breath as his stomach lurched.

Then, Derek wasn’t touching him, and Stiles couldn’t feel his heat. He could only hear the door of the kitchen leading to the living-room open and close. Stiles brought a shaking hand up to cover his mouth in surprise and felt the heat in his cheeks. He took deep breaths to calm himself before grabbing the rest of the pack’s drinks and heading out to them.

During the next few games and the inevitable wind down, Stiles awareness of Derek had reached new heights. Stiles now noticed the higher intensity in his eyes when their eyes met, or when Derek’s lingered. He noticed how Derek’s smile was actually more focussed on Stiles’ gaming experience than the others’. Stiles began to obsess with the possibility that the content smile towards himself was mirror-like of how he would smile at Derek when he wasn’t looking.

The real kicker, though, was after everyone woke up the day after in varying degrees of way too perky or feeling the world was ending, Stiles had to wonder if it was all an alcohol induced dream as Derek kept him at arms length while they cooked breakfast for the others together.


	2. Sparkly

II

That smile was back. 

Stiles squinted across the clearing to where Erica was dancing with a sparkler near Derek. Her erratic spinning left Stiles desiring a better light source.  
“..iles”

“Huh! What?” Stiles turned to Scott who had his hand out.

“Can I get the lighter?”

Stiles gave a noncommittal hum as he lit three sparklers he had forgotten he’d had in his hand. “I don't know, Scotty. Are you sure you’re in the best state of mind to be handling a magical flame maker?”

Scott huffed with a smile while touching one of his sparklers to Stiles’ dwindling ones. “Are you sure you are?”

Stiles snorted at that. “From my understanding, I am the only one who is qualified.” Stiles waved his sparklers hurriedly before the sparks died. “You guys don’t seem to know your limit. It’s like you totally disregard the fact that Columbian monkshood weakens your metabolism for the use of alcohol while inebriating you at the same time. Derek’s the only one who I’m not too worried about.”

Scott gave a disbelieving laugh. “You’re kidding me, right? He goes about it almost as crazy as we do. Isaac counted how much he had to drink last time, because he couldn't believe we convinced him, and you would not believe.”

“No wonder,” Stiles huffed as he felt a lump form in his throat.

Scott gave him a considering look before waving towards the others. “I think Erica and Boyd are going to need your services soon, Fire Wielder.”

Stiles stood from his bag full of California legal fireworks and turned to the aforementioned pack members with two boxes of sparklers. “That’s Mister Fire Wielder to you.” 

Scott just chuckled as he loped excitedly to Allison, Lydia, and Isaac with his own batch of sparklers.

As soon as he got even relatively close to Erica and Boyd, Erica descended on him in a tackle. Stiles was greatly relieved that she held back even in her inebriated state. He held up the boxes as surrender before she could even attempt to use her position to tickle him or be overly lewd. Stiles doesn't even know anymore with her. Boyd helped them up, and Stiles was allowed to start off their new set of sparklers peacefully. He headed to Derek next.

“How you doing, big guy?” he attempted as he nudged Derek’s side with his elbow.

Derek huffed good-naturedly as he steadied himself with Stiles’ arm. “No sparklers needed, Fire Wielder.”

Stiles pouted. “This better not become a thing. That is probably the worst nickname ever.”

“Because Stiles is so great.”

The wide grin on Derek’s face made Stiles helpless in trying not to return it. “It’s a lot better than a lot of things out there, Der.”

The flush that was already on Derek’s face from alcohol deepened considerably causing his face to seem softer and more open. With such an expression aimed at him, Stiles could feel like the center of someone’s universe; he could feel like he’s Derek’s everything. Stiles felt his own heartbeat quicken from its already fast pace as he noticed Derek had never dropped his upper arm but was actually bringing his hold higher.  
Derek’s hand settled on the nape of Stiles’ neck where Stiles still felt the ghost of Derek’s peck from a month ago, and he leaned a little closer. Stiles tried to stamp down a reaction of arousal from the heat at his nape and the other hand coming to rest on his hip. “Um….”

“Just-” Derek mumbled vaguely before resting his head where Stiles’ neck met his shoulder. Stiles kept his chin up to avoid Derek’s hair on his jaw and tried to keep his hands still at his sides instead of fumbling awkward with them. He shut his eyes tightly after tuning into the feeling of Derek’s breath and rhythmically squeezing hand on his neck. He fought back a squeaky hum as Derek’s head seemed to nuzzle more into the space.

Only when Stiles felt the shifting of weight did he realize Derek had fallen asleep on him. “Derek?” There was no answer to Stiles’ inquiry. Stiles brought his hands up to Derek’s chest, and he choked on a squeak as he accidentally felt over a nipple. He cleared his throat before trying again, “Hey, Derek. You should…wake up?” He didn't wait for one minute before raising his voice just a bit to address the others. “Guys, you should help me now before I keel over.”

All he could hear was snickering before Scott and Boyd pulled their alpha away from Stiles gently. The snickering was bordering on full on giggling as Derek stirred a little and made towards Stiles. Scott cackled before shaking Derek enough that his eyes opened and he started taking his own weight.

“Come on, man,” Scott said mirthfully as he led Derek in the direction of home. Allison and Lydia took Stiles’ flanks as it was wordlessly decided that they would all head to crash.

Stiles tried to quell his disappointment in the morning when, once again, Derek seemed ignorant to the night before. He did not bring it up.


	3. Xander's Love Life

III

This was it. Stiles was so going to bring it up. All of it. Everyone was once again at Derek's for the night trying to unwind and bond before many of them left in the next month for school. It was far enough into the activities that Stiles had decided that ignoring the situation that had been weighing greatly on his mind was no longer the route for tonight. He was going to attack head on before even needing to go on the 'defensive'—see: blushing, nervous wreck. His actions tonight would make history—be it good or bad.

Stiles slumped hopelessly at the end of his own internal pep-talk. This could end badly. It could have easily all been his drunken imagination. He didn't doubt that he could have easily projected Derek having more than pack-centric feelings when he could have just been affectionately scent marking or something. Scott did that stuff—ish.

With a nod to himself, Stiles had dissuaded himself from any action and broke out of his revere only to receive a deadpan look from Lydia.

“Really,” she gave a great sigh. Stiles’ eyes widened greatly, but before he could ask if anything incriminating was said out loud, Lydia had spoken again, “This is probably the last chance you both have to get over yourselves— _don’t_ give me that look; you know exactly what I am talking about. This night is solely for us, pack, before the next few weeks are for family and _packing_.” Her expression was almost heartbroken as she asked, “Do you really want to leave the state wondering and obsessing about it?”

 _Fuck_.

“Lydia-”

“They’ll be back inside soon from their excited, little, drunken run, and you will get your shit together, however you are able, and make your decision.”

Stiles didn’t even have time to gape before the rest of the pack piled into the living room from an impromptu run—mostly tackling each other in crazy hugs of death—outside. His eyes immediately went to Derek whom was grinning most adorably. It was the maxillary central incisors that settled it for Stiles (It really wasn’t, but Stiles does not believe that anyone could say no to those bunny teeth—in the right circumstances), maxillary central incisors and the fact that Derek planted himself into the seat next to Stiles with their legs lining together warmly and an arm settling on the back of the couch behind him. Stiles was effectively tucked into Derek’s side in front of the whole pack, and no one was giving any indication that this was in any way wrong or odd.

_What?!_

His attention only returned from the heat of Derek’s body after Derek was making to stand. It seemed to be a kitchen run, and so he offered his help. The kitchen may not actually be private, but it would seem private enough.

It was only after Derek had filled his arms with alcohol and was going for his own load that Stiles finally blurted, “I’m not the Xander!”

Derek paused to look back at Stiles in confusion. “Xander-”

“-Harris; yes—no. I’m not the Xander, ‘n’ you are not the Buffy. Definitely not; Scott is Buffy. So, I am definitely not Xander. Does that make Allison Angel? That makes some sense, but then is that doomed?” Stiles gasps in horror, “Am I Willow?! Are you Oz or Tara, or am I just completely off base?! I _don’t_ even want Willow’s romantic record okay? The comics get awkward! You need to say something, Man, or Whedon will just keep spilling!”

Derek’s face cracks out of an obscene smirk before a snort pushes its way through. He mumbled, “Oz…Tara,” with an indulgent smile before grabbing the sides of Stiles’ face to lead him into a chaste kiss. “You’re definitely Xander, though,” he says against Stiles’ lips.

Stiles’ head goes back quickly. “Whaaat? But research an-”

“Just research would lead you to be Giles, and I don’t think I’d like to be killed by Allison while she’s on a dark strea-”

“That sooo totally almost happened though!”

“I am no Jenny Calendar, and you are still Xander.”

Stiles scowls for only a short while before grinning and knocking his nose affectionately against Derek’s. “You like-like Xander.”

Derek gives an amused and fond smile before conceding that he may feel that way for Xander. Derek then tries to use a kiss as a means to quiet Stiles again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not see character similarities between Stiles and Xander, so...yup.


End file.
